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He draws back enough to cup my cheeks, tears glistening in his own eyes. “I love you. I tried to accept your plan to keep me safe, but I—I was lost. I couldn’t bear it.”

My chest twists with raw emotion. “I’m sorry I ran. I only wanted to shield you from the Senate’s ultimatum.”

He shakes his head. “We don’t shield each other by vanishing.

We do it by fighting side by side.” The ring of conviction in his voice steadies me.

“If the Senate casts me out, so be it. If Vaelen unleashes orcs, we’ll gather Freedmen, merchants—any who see the truth.

We’ll protect Milthar on our own terms.”

A rush of hope flares, precarious but real. “Then we do it. We gather our allies, reveal the infiltration plan, and refuse to hand me to orcs.”

He nods, pressing his brow to mine. “We stand firm. Enough of Milthar’s commoners trust me. If they see orcs inside our walls at Vaelen’s behest, they might revolt. We can’t let fear dictate the city’s future.”

In the courtyard’s hush, Freedmen glance our way, some offering supportive nods. A wave of quiet determination spreads. My chest feels lighter, though the stakes remain dire. At least we’re united again.

Murmuring softly, I relay every detail of the orc meeting I witnessed. His eyes widen, fury stoked anew. “They’re finalizing infiltration as we speak. Then handing you over is meaningless. Vaelen’s using you as a scapegoat to accelerate his takeover.”

I swallow. “Yes. If we surrender to their demand, we lose everything anyway.”

He wraps me in close with a firm grip, guiding me indoors. “Let’s gather Freedmen’s best fighters, quietly warn merchant allies. If the Senate tries forcibly removing me tonight or delivering you to orcs, we’ll be ready.”

The relief that we have a plan buoys me, but a current of dread remains. We’re outnumbered by the Senate and orc colluders. Will Freedmen unify against official decrees? Possibly. My hand clutches Remanos’s tunic, seeking his warmth. No matter how bleak, I can face it if he’s near.

Back inside, Freedmen scurry to pass messages, while Remanos and I convene a hushed council in his study with a handful of trusted Freedmen leaders.

They vow to stand guard at the estate, muster other Freedmen who revere Remanos.

We prepare to prove Vaelen’s treachery—detailed notes, shipping records, mention of orc sightings.

The Freedmen vow to call a public assembly if the Senate attempts a stealthy move.

It’s a small, fragile bulwark, but it’s ours.

Night falls too soon, blanketing the city in a tension-laden hush.

The estate bustles with Freedmen quietly arming themselves, determined to shield me from Senate or orc clutches.

Remanos stands at the center, issuing calm directives.

Despite the weight on his shoulders, he radiates fierce resolve.

I hover at his side, bracing for the final confrontation.

My heart aches that he might lose champion status, but I won’t let him face Vaelen’s blow alone.

Just before midnight, scouts return, reporting orc emissaries massing near the southwestern quarter.

The Senate is rumored to meet them by dawn.

Remanos’s Freedmen exchange fearful looks.

Everyone knows what that means: an official handover, me as the trophy to keep orcs docile.

Or at least the Senate’s pretense. I bite my lip, refusing to quake.

If they come, we stand ready. My chest pounds with adrenaline.

Amid the hush, Remanos pulls me aside into a small corridor lit by a single lantern. He rests a hand against my cheek, searching my face. “Are you sure you won’t try to run again?”

Tears burn my eyes. “Never. I realized you’re right. We must stand or fall together. Even if it’s the end, I won’t face it alone.”

Emotion flickers across his features—love, sorrow, fierce pride. He inclines his head, pressing his brow to mine. “I vow no orc will take you. Not while I breathe.”

I nod, voice shaky. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect Milthar by your side.”

Our fingers entwine, hearts in sync. This final vigil of the night feels like the prelude to a storm. Freedmen patrol the estate perimeter. The city rests in ignorant slumber, unaware that by dawn, all might shatter. Remanos and I stand close in the corridor, that slender link anchoring us.

He leans in, voice hushed. “If tomorrow ends badly—if the orcs breach the city—I want you to know… no regret stands in my heart. Only love for you.”

My tears slide free. “Same. I wish we had more time to build a real life together.”

A gentle hush envelops us. He draws me into a tender embrace, and for a moment, the courtyard’s tension drifts away. We share a silent promise to find that future beyond the Senate’s tyranny, beyond orc threats.

Exhaustion claims me eventually. At Remanos’s urging, I slip into a small room to catch a brief rest. Sleep, however, remains elusive. I doze fitfully, dreaming of orc raids and Senate tribunals. The night crawls by, too still, as if the city holds its breath.

Before dawn, Freedmen rouse me quietly. Remanos stands in the hallway, expression grim.

A scout reported movement near the southwestern quarter—Vaelen’s circle gathering, orcs in tow.

The Senate likely finalizes their plan. My pulse thrums. We must act, or the Senate might forcibly remove me in the coming hours.

With Freedmen guards, we slip out of the estate, determined to intercept or observe the orc-Senate meeting.

Our group skirts the main roads, hugging dim alleys.

The city feels eerily silent, the horizon tinged with the faintest glow of impending sunrise.

If we can catch Vaelen’s conspiracy in action, maybe we can rally enough witness.

The Freedmen’s footsteps echo softly on the stones, hearts pounding as one.

Approaching the southwestern quarter, we find torchlight flickering in an open courtyard lined by warehouses.

Shouts and murmurs filter through the chill air.

Remanos signals us to halt, pressing a finger to his lips.

We creep closer, using a stack of crates for cover.

My heart hammers with dread and anticipation.

If the Senate truly stands here with orcs at dawn, it’s the final betrayal.

Peering around the crate, I spot Vaelen himself, tall and imperious in a cloak embroidered with gold.

A cluster of Senate guards forms a semi-circle behind him.

Opposite them, I see orcs—larger than the ones I glimpsed earlier, maybe a higher-ranked emissary.

They converse in low tones, arms gesturing.

Then Vaelen lifts a sealed parchment, handing it to the orc chief.

The orc rumbles in approval, brandishing it triumphantly.

Could this be the official deal that ensures they get me as a hostage? Or ensures orc infiltration?

Remanos tenses beside me, fists clenching.

Freedmen exchange urgent glances. If we can expose this moment to the public, it’s proof enough that Vaelen negotiates with orcs behind Milthar’s back.

But the orc chief steps aside, revealing a small retinue armed with vicious blades.

The Senate guards remain unalarmed, as though expecting it.

My mouth goes dry. This is no negotiation for peace; it’s a formal pledge of alliance, weapons offered in secret.

Vaelen gestures with a sly smile. I wish we had a crowd here to witness.

Freedmen capturing it might not suffice without the city’s presence.

We remain hidden, hearts slamming in unison.

Remanos flicks a desperate glance at me, urging caution.

If we charge in now, we’re outnumbered. But if we wait, they might finalize the exchange, sealing the orcs’ infiltration and dooming us all.

My pulse roars. Next to me, Remanos exhales, fighting the urge to leap out.

We remain crouched, overhearing snatches of Vaelen’s smug statements: “Once we remove Remanos, the Freedmen have no champion… the orcs secure trade routes… your tribute is guaranteed.” My blood runs cold.

They plan to dethrone him thoroughly, and hand the city’s Freedmen to orc exploitation.

The brunt of it all is pinned on me, the scapegoat that triggered the champion’s downfall.

Tears burn along the rims of my vision. I want to scream for help, but a Freedman grips my shoulder in caution. I realize with a sick jolt how precarious this is. If we reveal ourselves now, Vaelen’s guards might kill us all. If we bide our time, orcs might slip deeper into the city by sunrise.

Remanos gently draws me back, breathing ragged. “We can’t fight them here. Let’s retreat, gather more Freedmen, bring them to witness. Then confront Vaelen in public.” His whisper is urgent.

My heart pounds, but I nod, tears glistening.

We can’t rescue Milthar alone. We must show the entire city this betrayal.

Freedmen carefully back away, letting the shadows swallow us.

Vaelen’s conspiratorial hisses fade, replaced by the promise of dawn.

We slip into the labyrinth of alleys, fear fueling each step.

All illusions are shattered: Vaelen is forging orc infiltration to unseat Remanos, with me as the final piece.

If the Senate remains blind or complicit, dawn could bring an unstoppable orc presence.

My chest constricts, terror warring with a flicker of hope.

Freedmen’s loyalty might be enough to rally commoners if we reveal Vaelen’s secret deals.

As we make our way back to the estate, exhaustion weighs heavily, but the adrenaline keeps me upright. The Freedmen’s eyes shine with indignation. They’ve seen enough to know a true betrayal lurks. This knowledge won’t stay hidden once dawn breaks.

At the estate gate, Remanos grips my hand.

The Freedmen slip past, preparing to muster allies, or spread the word among merchant circles.

He turns to me, voice thick with emotion.

“We witnessed Vaelen’s final betrayal. We can’t hide.

By sunrise, we gather every Freedman we can, march to the colosseum, and present the city with the truth. Force Vaelen’s hand in public.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’ll stand beside you. If orcs appear, we show the city who brought them in. Then they can’t pretend it’s for peace.”

He hesitates, scanning my face. “You’re risking your life, again. The orcs might target you on sight.”

My voice shakes. “If they capture me quietly, it’s all over anyway. Better to confront them openly. We’ll either break Vaelen’s hold or go down fighting.”

He draws me into a fierce hug, words muffled against my hair. “I’m sorry it’s come to this.”

My tears trickle onto his chest. “It’s not your fault. We fight because we believe Milthar deserves better.”

We cling to each other in the courtyard’s torchlight, Freedmen bustling around us.

The city stirs to an ominous hush, the sky paling in the east. Dawn creeps closer, bringing a final showdown we can’t avoid.

A calm descends over me, overshadowing the fear.

We have nothing left but to trust each other—no illusions remain.

I gaze up at him, heart raw. “If Vaelen demands your final answer about handing me over, you stand firm?”

He nods, tears in his dark eyes. “I refuse to break. We reveal his orc deals, or we die trying.”

A quivering breath leaves my lips. I press closer, letting his warmth chase off the terror for one precious moment. “Then let’s meet them at dawn. Together.”

He nods, tail flicking in restless agitation.

Freedmen gather in pockets, arming themselves.

The estate bristles with tension, preparing for the city’s awakening.

I grip Remanos’s hand, chest tightening.

It’s terrifying, but strangely liberating: no more running, no more half-measures. The final crisis is upon us.

As the horizon glows with the faintest pink, Remanos signals the Freedmen to move.

We will converge near the colosseum, where the crowd often gathers at daybreak for news or Senate announcements.

If orcs and Vaelen attempt a hush-hush meeting, we’ll intercept, hopefully with a throng of Freedmen and merchants behind us.

My gut twists with dread, but a stubborn spark of hope burns. This is our last shot.

We slip out the gate, Freedmen in small squads, to avoid detection. Remanos holds me close, voice low. “Stay near. If fighting breaks out, let me shield you.”

I nod, tears pricking again. Despite the fear, my soul resonates with gratitude that we stand as one, refusing to abandon each other. If the city devours us, at least we go down side by side, forging a bond they can’t sever.

We head toward the colosseum in the pre-dawn dimness, hearts pounding in unison.

Every step resonates with the promise of confrontation.

Vaelen’s cunning meets the Freedmen’s raw loyalty.

My fingers tighten around Remanos’s, tears lingering in the corners of my eyes.

All is on the line: his champion’s mantle, our freedom, the entire city’s future.

And though the darkness of the unknown weighs on me, one truth anchors my every breath: we choose to face it together, no matter how deadly the cost.